


Losing the way on autumn fields

by olympia_m



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series, 闇の末裔 | Yami No Matsuei | Descendants of Darkness
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Violence, Nothing much happens, Pre-Slash, Same old same old, Self-Indulgent, Slash, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 17:29:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olympia_m/pseuds/olympia_m
Summary: Feilong loses his way on autumn fields and finds a lodging in the end. Asami thinks that's okay; what matters is Takaba, after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title refers to KKS IV: 201.  
> This pairing is still my happy place.... same old, same old.... Also, it's Lent; I'm trying to abstain from smut-writing...

Feilong stopped, took a deep breath and looked around him. The air was fresh and crisp, the leaves were a riot of red, yellow, brown, and green and of every hue in between, the view towards the mountains was breathtaking, the sky was a crystal, clear blue, a blue clearer than the river waters, and if only he could figure out how he had got himself lost, he would be happy. He was certain he hadn’t strayed far from the path. It had to be close, very close. But where was it?

He checked his mobile. He still had no reception. What the fuck was wrong with his provider? He put his phone back in his pocket and took another deep breath. He was on a kind of path; half-covered with fallen leaves, it was still a path. If he followed it, he’d reach a place where he could use his GPS. Probably. 

He suddenly chuckled. The first day he decided to go out on his own and he got lost. It was funny. Well, at least the view was nice. He could enjoy that while he walked. 

A while later he stopped again, seeing a person for the first time in more than twenty minutes. He took a moment to admire the person’s long, shining hair and their kimono with its pattern of red falling leaves against a brown background. She was very tall. Perhaps a Westerner? “Excuse me,” he said politely, even though he really was impatient to get back to the road. 

The person turned, dropping a rake, surprising Feilong. This was the first time he’d seen a man with hair as long as his, perhaps even longer. And the kimono he’d seen was worn over a beige man’s kimono, although he wore a bright red garment underneath it that matched the red of the falling leaves. “Eh?” The man said, looking just as surprised as Feilong. 

Feilong bit back a sigh. Pretty, but, possibly an idiot? Damn his luck. 

“How did you get here?” The man continued, frowning as he bent down to pick up the tool. 

“I strayed off the path to look at the view and,” Feilong gave him a charming smile, trying to get the man to help, “I got lost.” 

“Hm,” the man nodded, still frowning. “Strange, very strange.” 

Feilong smiled again. Please, pretty person, don’t be a total idiot. Help me out. 

The man suddenly stopped frowning and smiled back. He looked prettier like that, Feilong decided. “Would you like some tea before I show you the way back to the path leading to the temples? I assume you were heading to one of them, right?”

“No, thank you, I couldn’t…”

“It’s no bother,” the man continued and gestured for Feilong to come forward and towards him. 

Feilong studied him. If this offer for tea was genuine, and Feilong declined, who knew when he’d find another person to ask for directions. And if it wasn’t, Feilong was certain he could take him, if he had to fight him. His mind suddenly provided him with an image of him on top of the man, fighting him, although it looked a lot like something else… Feilong looked away from him, banishing such errant thoughts. This was not the place for them. “Thank you,” he said. 

The man smiled at Feilong again, turned his back on him, and started walking, clearly expecting Feilong to follow him. Feilong did. The path, if one could call the thin trail on the ground that, went upwards, winding its way between tall trees until they reached a small clearing with a spectacular view towards the mountains. A house, practically a hut, was half-hidden by trees. Feilong wondered if there was time to go back. 

The man stopped in front of a well and started drawing water. “Don’t worry,” he suddenly grinned. “It’s perfectly safe to drink from here.”

Feilong smiled. That was not what he was worried about. 

The man lifted the pail with one hand, picked up the rake again and motioned for Feilong to follow him, this time to the house. Feilong took off his shoes dutifully, turned them around, and stepped on the surprisingly clean, narrow corridor that seemed to run around the house. The man put the rake under the corridor and then stepped up, opened the door and led him into a spacious room with a sunken hearth at the centre. His clothes were the only bright thing inside the room. Even the light was subdued. 

“How old-fashioned,” Feilong grinned. It was; the room was sparsely furnished, with four cushions around the hearth, a set of shelves with pots, bowls, and containers next to one of them, and closed, tall cabinets against the walls. The dark wooden floor was spotless, though, and the mats placed around the hearth had a pleasant fresh smell that made Feilong think of green. Old-fashioned, but lovingly kept in good order. 

“It’s very efficient.” 

“I bet it is.” 

A pot was suspended by a hook over the embers in the middle of the hearth. The man removed it and placed it on the shelf next to him. “Please, sit.”

Feilong did and watched as the man reached for a tea caddy, a spoon and a cast iron teapot. He put a few spoonfuls of tealeaves in the pot, filled it with water and hung it low over the coals. 

“That’s also very old-fashioned,” the man laughed. “I’m Oriya, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Feilong. Pleased to meet you too.”

“So, you got lost,” the man said as he got up, opened one of the cabinets and brought a small table out, that he placed next to Feilong. 

“Yes.” Feilong hid his irritation. Hadn’t he said that already? Perhaps the man really was an idiot, exactly as Feilong had feared earlier. 

“Must have been quite frustrating. The path to the temples is clearly signposted.”

Feilong narrowed his eyes. Was the man calling _him_ an idiot? “I told you already, I left the path to look at the view.”

“No need to be upset.”

“No need to be nasty either.”

The man grinned and ran his hand over the back of his head in a gesture that Feilong remembered from Akihito. Embarrassment. “Ah, I was being rude. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

Oriya reached for two small clay cups. “I hope this makes up for my behavior a little. It’s just that our house is really off the tourist trails. It’s difficult to find, even when you are looking for it.”

Feilong shrugged. He’d just followed the path on the ground; he didn’t think that was _that_ difficult. 

Oriya poured the tea and offered him a cup. It smelled grassy and mellow. He took a sip and it was sweeter than the usual Sencha he’d been offered during his trip. In fact, it reminded him of good quality Longjing, though it was sharper and fresher. He smiled, honestly pleased. “Thank you.”

Oriya smiled at him. 

Feilong had another errant thought of how this smiling mouth could be put to a different use and then discarded it. He was in the middle of nowhere, together with someone he didn’t know. He should be on his guard, not daydreaming about having sex with a stranger. 

He drank a little more and looked around one more time. He couldn’t imagine anyone living in this place by choice, even though Oriya seemed quite at ease there. “You live here?” 

“No. My Ma… boss will be staying here soon, so I came to make sure everything was ready for his visit.”

“Lucky me, then.” Feilong finished the tea, and Oriya refilled his cup immediately. “Or maybe your boss is the lucky one. The area here is beautiful.”

“Yes, he likes it here.” 

Feilong finished this cup faster. “I should get going,” he said, standing up. “Thank you for your hospitality.” He looked around again. 

“Don’t mention it.” Oriya smiled again as he stood up. “You seem curious about something.”

“Yes,” he laughed. He had a reputation for being inscrutable, yet he couldn’t contain his curiosity at this place and it showed. It was almost embarrassing. “I’ve never been in a traditional Japanese house. I’ve read that this is the sleeping area as well?”

Oriya nodded. “Yes. I can give you a tour, if you want.” 

“That would be nice.”

“We keep various pots and other things in the cabinets here, but the futons and extra towels and blankets are in the closet here,” he said, opening a door to a narrow corridor and pointing to a pull handle on the wall. 

“And there?” he pointed at the door next to it.

“Storage room. Next is the toilet and,” he pointed to a door opposite that, “bathroom. That’s it.”

“Oh. Is this even practical?”

“I think so,” Oriya replied, sounding almost affronted. 

“It just looks very…” Small, crammed, uncomfortable were the first adjectives that came to mind. 

“It is what it is. Anyway, that’s not the main attraction of this house,” he said opening the bathroom door. “This is,” he continued, letting Feilong step inside. 

Feilong nodded. “Oh, yes, even I would put up with the rest of the house for this.” The bathroom was lined with a lighter wood than the rest of the house. The stool for sitting when washing and the bucket for rinsing were made of the same wood, and even the towels and brushes were a pale brown colour that matched the rest of the room. Only the bathroom fittings were made of dark bronze. 

The best part was the view, though. The two corner walls had been replaced by glass windows, and it was as if it was all made in relaxing tones so one could enjoy the scenery better. With the tree leaves changing colours, the mountains looked as if they were on fire. “Can I take a few pictures?” 

“Excuse me?”

Feilong snapped a couple of photos. He could imagine himself in a similar tub in his loft; instead of the trees he’d have a view of Hong Kong harbour and the sky. Yes, he could either have another bathroom installed, or cover his marble tub with wood. “I should have a Japanese-style bathroom in my house. This looks so relaxing,” he said, looking fondly at the tub. He could imagine himself sharing it with Oriya, leaning against him, kissing him. Feilong pinched himself; he should be on his guard, damn it. 

“Would you like to have a bath?”

Feilong blinked. He took a small step back. Was Oriya crazy?

Oriya made the same embarrassed gesture. “Sorry, sometimes we ask that of our customers at our restaurant. Force of habit.” His laughter was nervous. 

“What kind of restaurant do you have?”

“An old-fashioned one. And some of our customers get so drunk I feel bad about letting them go back home stinking of alcohol. Hence, the offer of a bath.”

Feilong raised an eyebrow. He felt that something didn’t add up, but he didn’t care. He cast another longing glance at the tub, and then shook his head, getting out of the room. “Thank you, but I ought to leave now if I want to see any of the temples today.” And have enough time to go back to his hotel and get ready for tonight’s dinner. He sighed. Dinner was all about sending a strong message of solidarity to the Russian mafia. He had to be there. 

“Ah, of course. I’ll show you the way, then. Follow me, please.”

Feilong nodded. “Thank you.”

He followed Oriya out of the house and down the winding path towards the river. When Oriya led him to the edge of the road, Feilong wondered again how he’d managed to get lost. The path was barely a minute away from the road joining the three temples. Oh, well, who cared? As long as he was back on track. 

He turned to thank Oriya but he was already gone. What a weird person. But pretty and clearly fit. He sighed again. If only he’d met him differently; he wouldn’t mind hitting on him and, if Oriya were amenable, having sex with him. Oh, well.


	2. Chapter 2

Muraki spotted his friend the moment he was into the hotel’s banquet room. Not that it was difficult; Oriya towered over most people and his clothes were as flamboyantly distinctive as always. In autumnal reds and browns he looked like a flame in a sea of grey. Muraki waited until he finished introducing the black-haired beauty next to him to a man at least three times her age, but who probably ran one of the larger Kyoto groups, and then started approaching them. 

Typically, Oriya abandoned work the moment he saw him. He excused himself and then, “Muraki,” he shouted excitedly, striding towards him and making several people turn towards them. Muraki did not miss the flash of fear in several pairs of eyes, but Oriya didn’t notice a thing, focused solely on him. “I wasn’t sure you would come, you being a free agent and all that,” he said when he was next to him, in a quieter tone. 

“And miss this, the greatest gathering of Asian group leaders since forever?” He grinned. “The Russians are not that bad. Just the other day, I slept with the leader of one of their groups.” He licked his lips. “It was a delightful meal.”

“You killed him?” Oriya asked, expression showing no curiosity whatsoever. 

“Of course not.” But he had promised to kill someone in return for the pleasure received from young Mikhail’s body. A certain Chinese leader. “I just had fun.” Oriya frowned for a second and Muraki laughed. “Consensual fun. I’m capable of that every now and then, you know. When it suits me.”

Oriya rolled his eyes upwards. He led Muraki towards a somewhat secluded area of the room, where a couple of potted ferns could hide them. 

“And you? Sitting in your Father’s place?”

“Not really. He sent Tanaka for that. I’m just providing the entertainment, as you must have noticed.”

“I have. What have you planned to entertain me, I wonder?”

“Nothing.”

“Ah, you are so cold to me, Oriya. I will complain to your Father that your hospitality is lacking.” 

Oriya smirked. “He knows you’re my best friend. He’ll simply assume we had an argument.”

“True,” Muraki grinned. “Besides, I can find my own entertainment. Your women are still off limits, I presume?” 

“Always,” Oriya glared at him. 

“You don’t have to shout at me.” He smiled softly. “I am still welcome at your house, aren’t I?”

“You idiot,” Oriya sighed. “You always are.” 

Muraki wanted to hug him for a second. He took a step back instead, looked past the ferns and around the room. “So, where is your Father?”

“At Sanbi. He finally left the hospital this afternoon and went there to recuperate.”

“Still as wild as always, huh?”

Oriya sighed again. “You can say that. Ah, but maybe you can help me tomorrow?”

“How?”

“I went to make sure the house was ready for him this morning and after I had finished clearing the path, I…” Oriya stopped and frowned, obviously trying to find the right words.

Or maybe just remembering. That wistful, sudden smile revealed not confusion but reminiscing. Muraki smiled as well. “Yes?”

“There was a man past the barriers.”

Muraki raised an eyebrow. 

“I made him tea at the guards’ house and sent him on his way, of course, but, maybe you can check the barriers with me tomorrow? I already checked everything twice after he left, and they were intact. He shouldn’t have found the property.”

“Perhaps everything happens for a reason,” Muraki said, trying to be philosophical about it. It was true, though; whatever magic protected the Mibu family was stronger there. The only time he’d tried to go to that house without Oriya he ended up walking up and down the path connecting the temples for half an hour before giving up. 

“Yes, but what?” Oriya looked confused. 

“Dr Muraki?” 

Muraki turned. Asami, dressed in an immaculate dark grey suit, and looking as stunning as always. For a moment he was tempted to use his magic to make Asami sleep with him – just once – but why spend energy when there were so many people who’d willingly sleep with him? Oriya wouldn’t believe him, but he did prefer having consensual fun these days. 

Next to Asami was a tall, slender man dressed in another immaculate suit, this one dark blue. Instead of a tie, he wore a silk patterned scarf. Even more unique than his sense of style, was his beauty: long, black hair, delicate features, dark eyes under long, blank eyelashes, cherry red lips. Muraki was tempted to spend energy on this one, but the man seemed entranced by Oriya, so he smiled politely instead, and took another step back. 

“I would like you to meet Liu Feilong, of Baishe,” Asami said. 

Fuck; the Chinese leader he was supposed to kill was the one making Oriya look like he was at the edge of a street full of food carts? Muraki was certain that if he touched Oriya, he’d find his pulse racing. 

“Feilong?” Oriya asked, widening his eyes. 

Liu grinned. He looked like a cat eyeing a canary dipped in cream. “Oriya?”

“Liu? This was the person who broke past your house barriers?”

Oriya nodded. 

Asami frowned. 

“I told you I got lost this morning,” Liu turned to Asami. “This was the person who helped me find my way back.”

“What are the odds?” Muraki whispered. 

Asami kept frowning. 

“Mibu Oriya,” Oriya said, introducing himself to Asami. “I’m here to make sure everyone will be entertained properly tonight.”

Asami looked away for a moment, almost shocked or embarrassed. Muraki bit back a grin. Asami knew of Oriya and his occupation, then, even when he didn’t know him personally. Oriya elbowed him, and Muraki couldn’t help himself. He laughed. 

“Ah, that is very generous but I will not need your kind of entertainment,” Asami snorted. “You see…” He smiled fondly, no doubt thinking of the young man everyone was talking about. Takaba, wasn’t his name? How had a kid barely out of college manage to make Asami, Tokyo underground’s ice prince, fall in love was what a lot of people wanted to know, including Muraki. 

Oriya grinned. “Oh, I know all about that, Mr Asami, and believe me, I took extra care that you would not be disappointed either.” He handed Asami a card key holder. “The young man thinks he’s here to photograph a collection of antique objects.”

Asami froze. “If you’ve hurt him,” he started saying menacingly. 

Oriya waved Asami’s protests aside. “I did no such thing. Mr Takaba is a very good photographer; such talent should be nurtured, not wasted.”

Liu smiled as well. “Trust him, Asami. If not, I’ll help you deal with him.”

“No need to be threatening,” Oriya told Liu, still smiling. 

“You sounded threatening first.”

“I did not.”

Liu couldn’t stop smiling. This was a cat about to pounce. “Yes, you did. Maybe I can explain this to you over a drink before dinner?”

“Maybe.” 

Liu gestured towards the bar and Oriya followed him. 

Muraki watched them leave. Then he turned his attention to Asami, who was still frowning, only this time while staring at the key in his palm. Hm, so the spirits had allowed some stranger past the barriers that kept Oriya’s house hidden from the world for a reason that Oriya could not understand? Now that Muraki knew who the stranger was, he could guess why. He grinned at Asami. “Do trust my friend, Asami. He’s not like me.”

“Hm.”

“Your friend too is a lucky man.”

“Meaning?”

“The Arbatovs want him dead. I heard they were planning to poison him tonight.”

Asami turned his frown at him. “What?” He made to go after Liu.

Muraki grabbed his arm. “I said ‘planning’. But their plans failed. Let him enjoy a drink with his new friend.”

“How do you know that?

Muraki smirked. “I hear things. I do things.” And, more importantly, sometimes he didn’t do things. “Warn him that the Arbatovs won’t stop.”

“Then the Arbatovs need to be stopped.”

“You said it, not me. How about having a drink with me?”

Asami looked at the key in his palm one more time and then put it in his pocket. “Just one,” he said. 

Muraki smiled and led Asami towards the other bar, wanting to let Oriya spend some time alone with his new friend. Ah, but Liu was a lucky man. Had he not made Oriya’s acquaintance, and evidently made an impression on Oriya, Muraki would have killed him already. 

Damn that Mikhail for being such a good lay and damn Muraki for bragging about his skills. Well, Mikhail could live with the disappointment, because Muraki could not live with the idea of disappointing Oriya.


	3. Chapter 3

Once dinner was over, Asami excused himself and went out into the garden. It was a cold, but clear night. A night not to be spent alone. He took out the card key holder one more time when dinner was over. Then he put it back in his pocket and took out his phone, pressing the key for Takaba’s number. 

Takaba picked up the call immediately. “Hey. How are you? I was just thinking of you.”

“Really?”

“It’s a lovely night. The moon is full and shining.”

“Are you drunk, Takaba?”

“A little.” Takaba sighed. “I’m at Kyoto for work, but all I can see is that big, fat moon above. All I want is to share the view with you.”

“Perhaps you can. I had to come to Kyoto for business as well.”

“Really? What are the chances?”

Asami smirked. No need to tell Takaba that his presence was a gift from a romantic pimp. “Where are you?”

“You’ll never believe it. My employer booked me a suite at this expensive hotel at the centre. It’s amazing.”

“Text me the address, and I’ll be there soon.”

“Yes.” Asami heard Takaba smile. “I love you, Ryuichi.”

“I know. The address, Takaba.”

“Hahaha, coming. Not me, the address is coming. Erm… can that happen?” Takaba cut off the call. A moment later Asami received the text with the hotel’s address, Takaba’s room number, and a long series of emoticons. 

Just how drunk was Takaba? He’d find out soon enough. 

&*&*

In the morning Asami was surprised to find Feilong seated at one of the breakfast tables and enjoying a cup of tea. He smiled and went to join him. “Good morning.”

Feilong stared at him. “Good morning,” he finally said. 

“I thought you left with Mibu last night,” he said once the coffee was served. 

“I did. And then came back.”

“Came back from where?” Takaba said, sitting down gracelessly. “You’re here too? How funny is that?” He looked around, eyes focusing on the pot. “Coffee.”

Asami poured some for Takaba, pretending not to see Feilong’s fond smile. “Feilong met someone last night.”

“So why are you here? Where is that person?”

Feilong shook his head. 

“Ah,” Takaba said as if he understood. Then he frowned. “No, I don’t get it, at all. If you like them, you should be with them.” He turned towards Asami, smiling gently and taking his hand. The expression in Takaba’s eyes was soft, but his grip was firm, and his fingers were warm. 

Asami smiled back. Those fingers had been keeping his heart warm for some time now, not just his flesh. He pressed his other hand over Takaba’s. 

“Was it a guy?” Takaba suddenly said. “I hope not one of those bi-curious guys who change their mind about what they like in the morning. If it was, I hope you punched him afterwards.”

Feilong laughed. “What an imagination you have.”

“So, what’s the story, then?”

“I don’t think he’s bi-curious,” Feilong said smiling softly. “I think he’s old-fashioned and wants to know me first.” He suddenly laughed. 

“I don’t want to know,” Asami muttered.

“But I do.”

Feilong leaned over and whispered something in Takaba’s ear. 

“No,” Takaba shouted. “No way.”

Feilong nodded, still smiling. 

Takaba smiled broadly. “I think you should let him get to know you. He sounds nice.”

Asami looked outside. Mibu was temperamental, but nice? To his family, perhaps. He smiled. Perhaps that meant that he would be nice to Feilong too, if things worked out. “You’re meeting him later today, then?”

“Yes, he’s promised to show me around Kyoto.” Feilong tried not to grin and failed. 

Takaba leaned against Asami. “Can we go around Kyoto, too?”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“I forgot to tell you. I got a text that the shoot was cancelled, and because it was at such short notice, I am still getting paid properly. If only most employers were like that.”

Asami nodded. “In that case…”

Takaba hugged him. “Thank you.” He finished his cup in one gulp. “Oh, I can’t wait to explore Kyoto with you. That will be so great.” He took out a dog-eared guidebook and opened it. “I already marked where I want to go. See….”

Asami let him talk as he sipped his coffee, and shared a glance towards Takaba with Feilong. Ah, the enthusiasm of the young. But then, Takaba would always be full of enthusiasm and energy compared to them. How could Takaba be still such an innocent? 

He smiled. Takaba was Takaba, and Asami was Asami. He would protect his prize.


End file.
